It was a small thing, really
In the cafe,
Hardly hearing me.
I held out a feather, soft
Not really useful,
But holding it up.
Whether you took it or not
Is by the by.
What mattered was the difference
Between true and lie.
To ourselves, to each other
We know the answers,
Aren’t willing to believe them.
We know the timing isn’t perfect
Yet we stop at the meaning,
We see it, congealing.
I st...